The Spectacular Spiderman, Season 3, Episode 3
by Europiam
Summary: Philanthropist Wilson Fisk buys Oscorp off Harry Osborn, meaning Harry can return to school. Meanwhile, Doctor Octopus creates a new symbiont, Carnage, who then kills hundreds of people, and with Spiderman still out of action due to his broken collarbone, no-one can stop him. Please Review!


The Spectacular Spiderman, Season 3, Episode 3

Chaos and Carnage

**Episode 2 Summary**

Spiderman fought and defeated Wrath, but was gravely injured, shattering his collarbone, and is now out of action for nearly 8 weeks.

Jason has found out that Peter Parker is Spiderman, but he revealed that he also has double life, as the vigilante Whisper, who saved Peter's life.

* * *

Harry Osborn sat in the Oscorp board room, uncomfortable looking in a stiff black suit. Two advisers sat aside him, calm and impassive compared to Harry's obvious nerves.  
"He should be here," Harry muttered to one of the advisers.  
"I'm sure it will be fine, sir," The adviser replied, "Men of Wilson Fisk's status are often late."  
This did little to settle Harry's nerve's, and he squirmed in his chair, which drew a sharp look from his companions. The Intercom on the desk buzzed, at the secretary's voice issued from the speaker,"Mr Osborn? Mr Fisk is here."  
"Send him up."

There was a few seconds of silence, in which Harry thought about the decision he would make today. Would his father approve? Did it matter now? He tried to shake these questions from his head, he needed to focus on the matter at hand.  
There was a soft knock on the door, and Wilson Fisk entered the room. Harry barely suppressed a gasp. The man was huge, he towered over the table and its three occupants. He seemed to radiate power and self-confidence. Fisk offered his hand, which was the approximate size and shape of a spade.  
"Harry Osborn, I presume?" Fisk's voice was deep and gravelly, and every word was very carefully enunciated, as if English wasn't his first language. "I do hope you'll forgive my lateness," He continued, "I got caught up in with the scientists back at my corporation."  
"It's fine," Harry muttered under his breath, "It's not like I had plans or anything." This statement earned Harry another sharp glance, but he was feeling too irritated to care.

Wilson Fisk was talking again, so Harry switched back his attention to him.  
"I am already behind schedule, so I will be very brief. My proposal is to merge our companies, for I feel that it could be highly beneficial to both our enterprises. No offence to young Mr Osborn over there, but it must be highly stressful to a teenager to run a multi-national company. So I also suggest that I take over the running over the company. Mr Osborn will, I guarantee, be allowed to stay on the board with a large hold over the company's shares."  
Fisk paused to take a breath, and let this sink in. Harry spoke up, "So you're saying, you essentially want to buy the company?"  
"In a sense, yes."  
"And how much for?"  
"I would be willing to buy this company for $6,000,000,000."  
A stunned silence settled over the grouping. "I know this will be a difficult decision for you, your father built all this from the ground up."  
The two advisers turned to Harry.  
"It's a fantastic offer. And it would take a lot of pressure of you, sir."  
"I know, I know." The offer was still ringing around his head. $6,000,000! Harry was sorely tempted, he had very little sentimental ties to the company, and it would allow him to re-integrate into his little social circle.  
He turned back to Fisk, and drew a shaky breath.  
"I- I think, I think I will accept your offer."

_..._

_Cue Spectacular Spiderman Theme._

_..._

Whisper was surveying the city atop the Daily Bugle building, his long cape flowing in the wind. It was a quiet night, barely worth is time. Whisper shook that thought from his head.  
"_Not the attitude I should have," _He thought, chastising himself, _"I doubt Pete ever thought that."  
_He leapt off the building, letting the cool night air rush past his masked face, before firing his wrist mounted grapple at a nearby rooftop, and using it to swing himself down the roads. He alighted on top of Peter Parker's house, which was in darkness, and completely silent. He crept along the roof edge making no noise, and crouched over the place where he knew Peter's window would be. Peter had been in hospital for the past few weeks, with a broken collarbone, after a fight with the vigilante Wrath. Whisper had saved Peter, and had revealed to him that he was Jason Braken. Jason had been working to keep the city safe whilst Peter was unable to. He leant over and knocked lightly on his window. Waited, and then knocked again, louder. Still no answer, and Jason sighed, irritated.  
"I swear to God Pete, if you don't open your fu-" Just in time to stop Jason's profanity, the window slid open, "Finally." Whisper swung down off the lip of the roof, and through the open window. Peter stood in the half-light, with his arm in a sling.  
"That's a new toy," Peter said, nodding at the grapple on his wrist. Jason laughed softly, "I see why you like your web shooters so much."  
"Yeah, they're pretty fun," Peter breathed with a lopsided grin, "All quiet?"  
"Yes," Whisper replied, "Nothing going down tonight. Only about 2 things all night."  
Whisper moved toward the window, then turned back. He laid a small communicator on the bed.  
"If you need Whisper, use this," Jason said, "It has a camouflage circuit, so it will blend with whatever is underneath it. I have one too."  
"Thanks," Peter said, "Hey, Jason?"

But he was already gone.

...

The next morning, Peter awoke suddenly, a bright sun blasting through the curtains. He made a vague grunt that sounded something like, "Uregh."  
"Peter!" Aunt May's voice floated from downstairs, "Come on, you'll be late, again!"  
"Late?" Peter called back, "It's Sunday, isn't it?"  
"No! It's Monday."  
"Oh forgodssake," Peter mumbled into the pillow. He dragged himself out from under his duvet, his shoulder throbbing. He pulled his T-shirt over his head, with extreme difficulty, one sleeve hanging loose. He stumped downstairs, muttering quietly to himself.  
"Hey Peter," Aunt May said kindly, "How's your arm?"  
"It's fine, thanks, Aunt May," Peter replied with a small smile.  
"Your lunch is in your bag, money for the bus is on the side."  
"Aunt May," Peter laughed, "You are a life saver!"  
"Come on," Aunt May smiled, "You'll miss the bus, again."

...

Jason was waiting alone at the Bus Stop when Peter arrived. Jason looked paler today, and a bit gaunter.  
"Late nights getting to you then?" Peter said as he approached. Jason started, and looked around.  
"Oh, hey Pete, just a bit, yeah."  
"Only for a few more weeks, then I can take over again," Peter reassured him.  
"You know what? I think I might carry on, even after you've healed." Jason gave him a sideways grin, "Plus, I've got something I wanna show ya. After school, I'll send the signal to your com unit."  
"It has a map?" Peter said, surprised.  
Jason gave a mischievous grin, "You'll see."  
The bus arrived then, with a few late and disgruntled kids, with half-buttoned shirts and untied shoes.

...

The bus pulled up outside the school gates, and half a dozen children all piled out at once. Jason gave Peter a pained look, and sighed, "First years," he tutted. They laughed as they stepped off the bus, and crossed into the school, front yard. Peter stopped dead.  
"Pete?" Jason had stopped too, looking curiously back at his friend, his head cocked to one side.  
"It's, it's Harry! I swear he had a private tutoring, so he had more time to run Oscorp." A wide grin spread across Peter's face.  
"Well," Jason jerked his head, vaguely in Harry's direction, "Let's go see him."  
Harry was sat next to his girlfriend, Gwen Stacy, and they seemed deep in conversation.  
"Harry!" Peter called as crossed over to him, "When the hell did you get back?"  
Harry looked up, and an expression of great happiness spread over his face. He jumped up, and bounded over to Peter.  
"Hey Pete!" Harry clapped Peter on the back, before putting his arm on Peter's shoulder, and guiding him back to where he and Gwen were sitting. Words were pouring out of Harry's mouth, so fast he was tripping over them.  
"Dude! Dudedudedude! I've got so much to tell you, like, now, so much has happened!"  
Peter was still grinning, he couldn't contain it, "When-, how,- why are yo- explain."  
"No," said Harry, a little firmly, "First, you tell me what happened to your arm, and please, stop grinning, you look like the damn Cheshire Cat."  
Jason was standing back, watching the proceedings with a small half-smile on his face, when a pair of arms slid round his stomach, embracing him from behind, and he heard a voice in his ear whisper, "Hey sugar."  
Jason looked at the mystery person, and gave a roguish, lopsided smile. "Hey MJ."  
Pete realised someone was missing.  
"Wait, where's Jas?" He asked?  
"Don't worry Pete," Harry replied, laughing, "I'm sure he's occupied." He jerked a thumb over his shoulder.  
"What d'you-?" Pete began, then he spotted Jason, with Mary-Jane Watson entwined with him, and he laughed too, "Oh, I see."

The school day passed in a haze of boredom, and uninformative lessons, during which Harry filled in Jason and Peter on what had happened during his absence, and Pete filled him in on what had happened to his arm, albeit a slightly revised account, in which Peter had been a side watcher, rather than a participant in the battle.

"So, Spiderman saved you?" Harry was sceptical, "Why didn't he save my Dad?"  
"We can't know that Harry," Jason said gently, "Maybe Spidey's trying to make up for that mistake."  
"Maybe," Harry's voice tailed off, but he shook himself, and returned to the conversation.  
"Have you guys heard about this new hero? Calls himself Whisper or something. The press love him, the dark mysterious hero of the night. They're all over him."  
"He's that one with the cape, right?" Jason looked cynical, "Do we need another hero, I mean, we got Spidey, and he's done well, there's almost no crime thanks to him."  
"Still, he looks a lot cooler than Spidey," Peter said, "That cape, the black suit, very chic." The group burst out laughing.  
"Since when were you a fashion spokesman, Pete?" Jason grinned, "I mean, you always wear that same shirt! Is it never washed, or do you have a wardrobe of identical shirts?" The day was past with this good natured banter, and by the end of the day, the little social circle felt closer than ever.

...

Peter walked slowly toward the area marked out for him by his wrist communicator. It was an old warehouse, a rusted affair, with a pile of collapsed girders outside.  
"Wait a second..." Peter murmured.  
"Recognize the place?" Whisper said, right behind Peter.  
"Ah!" Peter leapt about a foot in the air, "Don't do that!" He said breathlessly. Whisper laughed, "When your collar heals, I'll teach you how to do that. Anyway, come in, and I'll show you what you came here for."

Whisper led Peter inside the warehouse, and flicked on the lights. They snapped on, one by one, which a resonating clap. Peter whistled as he saw piles of half-built tech, and the scattering of blueprints over the various workbenches.  
"Impressive." Peter said.  
"Thanks," Whisper replied over his shoulder. There was a tall object at the back of the warehouse, covered by a black dust cover. Whisper grabbed the cloth, and tugged it off. Peter gasped, he couldn't help himself. It seemed to be a blend of the Iron Man suit, and the traditional Spiderman costume.  
"I call it, The Iron Spider,"Whisper told an awestruck Peter, "Feel free to applaud now."  
"How- how? How the hell did you build this?" Peter said, his mouth agape.  
"I feel like I can answer that." A voice came from the shadows behind the tube. The owner of the voice then came around the tube and revealed himself. Peter's jaw dropped, for the second time.  
"Peter Parker," Whisper said, "Meet Tony Stark."

...

"Thank you, Jason," Stark gave Whisper a nod.  
"He knows who you are?" Peter turned to Whisper.  
"Well, yeah, he helped design my costume, of course he knows," Jason said.  
"So.. You built, like, nothing, in actual fact."  
"Actually, he built all of this," Stark interjected, "I just gave him a load of old designs and blueprints that fell through."  
"Oh."  
Whisper opened the tube, and removed the Iron Spider suit.  
"Allow me to demonstrate." He removed his cape and hood, and stepped into the suit. The face plate closed over his Whisper's mask. Three thin legs extended from the back of the suit, and raised him from the floor.  
"The suit has most of the powers that the Iron Man suit, apart from flight," Stark explained, "This was based off one my first designs, but is cut-down, to make it lighter, and easier for a younger body to carry. All the armour plates are completely retractable, so it can shrink down to a more convenient size."  
Peter was still trying to take the sudden appearance of Tony Stark, _THE_ Tony Stark, Iron Man, and he was talking to Peter like he knew him. The comm on Peter's wrist beeped, and Whisper retracted the legs, and dropped to the ground. He disengaged from the suit, and Peter noted his comm was beeping too.  
"Why is it beeping?" Peter asked.  
"An alarm is going off somewhere," Whisper said, then he turned to Stark, "Could you finish educating Peter? I've got to go." He pulled on his cape and hood, before he sprinted from the building and leaped away.

...

Whisper felt an exhilarated rush as he dived over the rooftops of Manhattan.  
"_This,_" He thought, "_This is the best part of the job."_ Whisper threw himself off a tall office block, falling head first for a few seconds, before he flung his cape open wide, and used it to glide to the roof of the building below. The map on his comms said he was right above the scene of the crime. There was no people, just a shattered jewellers window, and a lot of missing wares. A few police cars were parked haphazardly, with a handful of bored, and weary officers milling about. Whisper examined the crime scene closely, going over every visible inch in great deal. The smash-and-grab was surprisingly well done. There was no visible evidence, anything incriminating had been burned or removed. Whisper's eyes narrowed, and he leaned in closer, activating the infra-red filters in his lenses. The world lit up around him, and several things were suddenly in view. One, several of the plates had traces of heat radiation on the edges, meaning they had been heated before they had been shattered. Two, there was a thermal trail, there was a set of tyre tracks, which were nigh on invisible in the dark to the naked eye, but through the specially treated lens, Whisper could see there were heat traces there too, so they were made recently.  
"_This wasn't a random theft, this was premeditated." _Whisper thought, "_The plates were heated before they were smashed, making them brittle, and the tyre marks suggest there was a team waiting for the stolen goods. This was a professional job, but even professionals make mistakes."  
_Whisper gave a satisfied smile beneath his mask, and straightened up. He turned and ran along the edge of the rooftops, following the trail of fresh tyre marks. The trail took back roads mainly, swerving through alleys, only occasionally breaking into main roads. The trail suddenly stopped at a dead end alley, but trace heat and fingerprints showed the men climbed a fire escape, up to the roof of a nearby block of flats. Whisper grappled up to the building opposite, and surveyed the scene. There were about 6, and they were all in a circle, facing outwards. A few had pistols, one had a knife, but most had nothing.  
"This'll be easy," Whisper smirked. He climbed up, then across a power line stretched over the roof, so he was perched above the grouping.  
He dropped down, landing in the centre of the group, crouching low, before straightening up. The men lurched backwards in shock and fear, a flurry of voices filled the air.  
"It's Whisper!"  
"How'd He find us?!"  
"Why's this freak here!"  
Whisper suddenly lunged at one of the men, grabbing him by the shoulders, and vaulting over him. He stumbled forward, and Whisper struck backwards, hitting the man in the back of the neck with his elbow. He collapsed, twitching, and Whisper started work on the rest of the group. He seemed to flow round his assailants, moving with a grace and poise the thugs simply couldn't match. Thy may outnumber Whisper, but they were simply outclassed. A figure landed lightly where Whisper had been, and watched the fight silently. Back on the roof, nearly all the thugs lay unconscious, all but one, who was backing away, his eyes wide with fear Whisper advanced slowly, half hidden in shadow, his red lenses glinting. The thug turned to run, but Whisper was quicker. He leapt forward, and grabbed the thug, forcing him down onto the asphalt.  
"I know you," Whisper breathed into the man's ear, "You're one of Doc Oc's, lot." Whisper's eyes narrowed, "You're going to tell me everything," He growled. The thug was shaking, absolutely terrified, before his eyes rolled back, and he fainted.

...

The thug awoke, and realised he was blind. All he could see was darkness, and he couldn't hear either.  
"Now you're awake, talk!" Whisper's harsh voice pierced the thug's muddled brain.  
"O-ok," He stammered, "But if I do, I walk right? You won't chase me?"  
"I don't think you're in any position to make deals."  
The darkness suddenly dissapered, and the thug screamed.

...

Whisper removed the hood over the thug's head, and he screamed. Whisper was holding him by his ankle, suspending him over the lip of a roof, which was 40 stories up.  
"Now," Whisper repeated, "Talk."  
"Ok, okokok! We were told by our CO to put on this little show as a distraction, so you couldn't hit the real job."  
"What real job? Talk fast, my arm's getting tired."  
"I don't know, the CO wouldn't tell us. Please, that's all I know! Don't hurt me!"  
Whisper raised the man so that their eyes were level.  
"I can't guarantee that," He said, before striking the man on he side of the head, and he went limp. Whisper threw him aside contemptuously, and re- adjusted his gloves.  
"Very impressive," said a woman's voice from behind him, low and seductively.  
"Black Cat, I assume." Whisper spoke without turning round.  
"Mmm," Black Cat purred approvingly, "I've been watching you for a while now, Whisper."  
As she spoke, she walked around of him, trailing a hand over his shoulder, and on to his chest.  
"I like what I see." She gave a low purr, and stepped closer, draping her arms around his neck. "You're a real man of mystery, aren't you?" She continued, "It's all very, striking." She gave him a seductive smile. She reached behind his head with one hand, finding the seam for the mask.  
"What do you want?" Whisper said coldly.  
"What everyone else does, Mr. Mysterious, a look under that mask." She paused as she found the join, "I bet you're a looker, aren't you?"  
Wordlessly, Whisper removed her hand from the back of his head, and her arms from around his neck. Black Cat pretended to look hurt. "Just one quick peek?" She looked up at him, "Please?"  
Whisper's eyes narrowed.  
"Oh, playing hard to get are we? All the better." Black Cat replaced her hand on his chest, and, with her free hand, lifted a corner of Whisper's mask. She planted a kiss, before darting away.  
Whisper, eyes still narrowed, pulled down his mask. Black Cat began to wander around the rooftop, with her back turned to Whisper.  
"It isn't easy being me," She said, as she rubbed one forearm, "I've had troubles, I think you-"  
She stopped talking as she turned back to face Whisper, but, true to his name, he'd left without a sound.  
"Mmm, meow," She purred.

...

Miles below ground, the second team the thug had mentioned were clambering through the sewers, carrying a sealed metal box. The leader was dressed in a black jumpsuit, with a helmet, and full-face visor. He had a stubby pistol on his hip, and he was guiding the team through the twisting tunnels, until they opened into a wider tunnel, with several paths branching off. The leader held up his hand, telling them to stop. One of the team was brave enough to speak up, "What now, boss?"  
The leader didn't speak, just turned to face the man. The thug who had spoken stared at his own reflection in the visor, before the leader raised his pistol and fired, two shots. One in the heart, one in the forehead. The rest of the team reared back in surprise, and they were cut down too. It was all over in under a minute, and the blood pooled in with the filth of the city. The leader retrieved the metal box, and, almost casually, walked down one of the pipes. The bodies of the dead floated in the sewage, some face down, others staring at the pipe ceiling with blank, empty eyes. They were rat food now.

...

Doctor Octopus was waiting for the leader, as he clambered out the pipe, and dropped silently on to the laboratory floor.  
"You have it?" Doctor Octopus demanded. The leader nodded, and placed the box on a nearby worktop. "Good," Octopus continued, you may leave."  
One of Doctor Octopus' arms reached out, and ensnared the container.  
"You. You will be greatest work yet."

...

An hour later, the leader was called back into the laboratory, and Doctor Octopus handed him a glass vial. Inside writhed a blood red substance, a gooey, oily liquid like thing.  
"Take this, you know the target." Doctor Octopus ordered, "Now go, time is of the essence."  
The man nodded, and left. Doctor Octopus gave a malicious smile.

...

The next morning, above ground, Harry Osborn stood atop the stairs to the Oscorp Tower, uncomfortable in yet another black suit and tie. Wilson Fisk stood at his shoulder, a hand resting lightly on the boy's arm. Harry took a deep, shaky breath, and stepped up to a podium set up in front of him. Instantly, he was half blinded by camera flashes, from the innumerable journalists below.  
"It, it is my great pleasure to announce the merging of Oscorp, and Fisk Industries." Harry voice boomed out over the gathering, amplified by hidden speakers. Whisper alighted atop a roof nearby, and started to gather information. Harry was continuing, but Whisper wasn't focusing on the speech. His mind kept wandering back to last night, and what happened with Black Cat.  
"_FOCUS!_" Whisper mentally slapped himself bringing him back to the mater at hand. However, Whisper failed to notice the jump-suited man creeping up behind him. The man quietly uncapped the vial, lay it on the ground, and swiftly left. The substance inside was a modified version of the Venom symbiont. It was engineered to be more efficient at bonding with it's host, as it was infused with a special mind-influencing drug. The symbiont slithered up Whispers leg, and it covered his torso, and slowly crept down his arms. When it reached his hands, Whispers noticed, and he fell back in shock. The symbiont was covering his whole body, and as it slowly closed over his head, Whisper heard a voice hiss, "_Jason, Jason, Jason..."_

...

Inside Whisper's head, he stood, and noticed he was dressed as Jason. He looked around, though there was nothing to see. The entire area was coated in a choking white mist, so much so, Jason could barely see his own legs.  
"_Jason..." _The voice hissed again, and suddenly, the mist was swept away, and the symbiont stood in it's full glory. In Jason's mind, it looked like a horrific parody of Whisper. The cape was tattered and ripped, the hood torn, and the mask half ripped away. A mouth, similar to the one Venom, minus the lashing tongue, was in place of where Jason's own mouth had been. The costume was now a blood-red, with random black streak and patches, and had an alien shine to it, and the hands were now long-fingered claws. It was a terrifying combination of Venom, and Whisper.  
"_We feel your anger, Jason," _The symbiont spoke, _"We feel your pain, and we can help you."  
_"_I don't need your help!" _Jason shouted defiantly, _"I am Whisper, I am Manhattan's protector."  
_"_You help all those people, but what do you get back? Nothing, the people don't want you, they despise you, they are jealous of you, they don't __**deserve **__you." _The symbiont's malicious grin grew wider, _"Bond with us, __and you could be great, the greatest there ever was."  
_"_No!" _But Jason's defiance was ebbing away, as the drug took over his mind. "_I am, I.. We..."  
_A sudden, venomous look came into Jason's eyes, and he looked directly at the symbiont.  
"_At last, I see! Why do I help those people? They are ignorant, and ungrateful, and this city is dying because of them." _Jason opened his arms, and the symbiont gleefully leapt onto them, enveloping him, and outside, in the real world, Whisper let out an alien scream.  
"**WE! ARE! CARNAGE!" **And he stood, a horrifying realization of the symbiont in Jason's mind. Carnage flexed his claws, as he stared down at the people below.  
"Now," he hissed, "We cleanse this city."  
He leapt down into the congregation, landing among them, and people screamed, rearing back, away from the nightmarish...thing before them. Carnage struck out with his claws, and they raked across the chest of two people nearby, spattering the people around with blood. Carnage gave a maniacal laugh, and drew the unfortunate pair towards him.  
"Isn't this memorable?" He snarled, "My first victims."  
He threw the dying pair aside, and dived into the crowd ahead, killing anyone who was unlucky enough to get in his way. As he carved a path up the steps, Fisk stepped forward.  
"CARNAGE!" Fisk boomed. Carnage froze, as he ripped open a man's throat. He dropped the body, and forced his way to the steps.  
"And? Who might you be?" Carnage's voice was full of malice, and blood dripped from his mouth and claws.  
"Wilson Fisk, here to stop you." Fisk said coldly.  
Carnage burst out laughing, but the laugh was horrifying, a terrible, psychotic sound.  
"You? Stop us?" Carnage's voice was high, cold, and totally insane. "Try it, see how far you get."Carnage lashed out, his claws scything through the air. Fisk blocked the attack with one arm, and with the other, delivered blow after blow to the symbiont's face.  
Fisk finally stopped, and the symbiont hung limply by it's wrist, which was clutched in Fisk's grasp. Without warning, Carnage looked up, gave an evil grin, and whispered "Boo!"  
Fisk dropped him in shock, and Carnage flipped up onto the pillars behind them ."I like you, Wilson Fisk, you show spirit." Carnage hissed, "And although it breaks what passes for my heart, I must leave you." Carnage climbed over the roof of the building, and disappeared. There was a few moments shocked silence, and then the hysteria started, people were running in all directions, screaming. Numbers were furiously punched into mobile phones, as they feverishly contacted relatives. Sirens wailed in the distance, as Police rushed to the scene of yet another crime, and above, surveying all this with undisguised glee, was Carnage.

...

The panic had stopped, and a solemn silence had now fallen over the city. There was seemingly no end to the death toll, and the new bodies were constantly being found. Even J. Jonah Jameson had stopped his broadcasts against Spiderman, and had fallen silent, his head bowed on the huge screen.  
Jonah cleared his throat, and spoke softly.  
"I, I would like to offers my consolation to all those who have lost loved ones today, and-"  
Something caused Jonah to stop talking, and, a second later, it was broadcast to the city. There was a crash, a scream which died suddenly. Then there was quiet, and the room in which Jonah broadcast was cast into turmoil, the camera was knocked sideways by a sudden blast, and Jonah was thrown out of the camera's view. There was the sound of footsteps, and something being dragged. A body was dropped directly in front of the camera, its lifeless eyes staring out into Manhattan.  
"I'm back!" hissed a dreadful, terrible voice, the camera was picked up, and into view came Carnage.  
"Did you enjoy my demonstration?" Carnage said, with a maniacal grin, "Yes, little scum, the worst is yet to come," A hiss of pleasure escaped Carnage's mouth, "So run, citizens of New York, run, for I _own _this city now, and, with the Spiderman out of action, who can stop me?"

* * *

My first cliffhanger! :D  
But yeah, this story's taken a nose dive into the dark themes.  
Was making Jason/Whisper into such a psychopathic Carnage a good choice? Or was it too predictable?  
What about Black Cat's return?

Please answer these in any reviews you leave!  
Thanks people!  
~Europiam


End file.
